


Wolf in Sleep's Skin

by Brighteyes3216



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Assassin Draco, Grad student Harry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13663155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brighteyes3216/pseuds/Brighteyes3216
Summary: Draco is a highly trained mercenary and assassin. Harry is a graduate student. Their paths cross while Draco is on a job.





	Wolf in Sleep's Skin

              Draco tapped his fingers against the tabletop at his spot next to the window. He was impatiently sitting in a busy coffee shop. It was right near the campus, so it was crawling with college students. He, himself, had a large textbook spread out in front of him. Ethics. Or was it molecular physics? Maybe philosophy? He did not know. He was not a real student; he was just casing his mark, who should be crossing in front of the coffee shop any moment now.

              A throat clearing dragged his focus inwards. A man stood in front of him. _A gorgeous man_ , Draco thought, but now was not the time for that. He was on a job. No flirting or hook-ups on a job. He needed to stay focused.

              The man spoke. “Do you mind?” he asked with a faint British accent, nodding to the empty chair at Draco’s table, “Everywhere is full.” And it was true. The coffee shop had been getting progressively fuller as the afternoon wore on. “I promise not to be a disruption.”

              Draco smiled slightly, waving his hand at the chair. “Have at it,” he said, letting his native accent color his words, “I’m not easy to distract.” He glanced back outside. The mark should be leaving his office soon; his last class ended thirty minutes ago.

              The man’s bright green eyes light up. “You’re from England as well?” he prodded as he plopped into the seat, “It’s so nice to meet someone from home. I’m Harry.” He stuck out his hand.

              Draco turned back to the man, arching a pale eyebrow. Should he lie? Come up with an alias? For some reason, he against it. He took Harry’s hand in a firm grasp. “Draco,” he answered, glancing back down at his textbook. Those eyes were intense; living emeralds that boar into your soul.

              Harry smiled in response. He pulled a textbook out of his bag and put it on the tabletop. He narrowed his eyes from behind ugly glasses, obviously trying to figure out what Draco was reading. He whistled softly. “Molecular Orbital Theory,” he read, “That sounds so crazy. Are you a graduate student?”

              Apparently, the other man wanted conversation. Draco could handle that. He could be polite, charming, when the situation called for it. He turned a page and was completely confused by the diagram display. “Yes, I am,” he answered, hiding his confusion behind a smug mask, “Chemistry Masters. What about you?” He looked back to the other man. The book in front of him was thick and titled “Cognitive Development”.

              The man nodded, sending his messy black hair bouncing around. “Yep, I am as well,” he said, “But nothing as intense as you. Masters of Education in Child Psychology. And I’m getting my teaching credentials.” He smiled sheepishly. “I want to teach primary school. Or be a counselor.”

              Draco’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He had not been expecting that. “Power to you,” he replied, “I would not have the patience to deal with children. Or really, anything living.” He smirked and sent the man a wink, which caused Harry to blush.

              It was true. Draco had no patience for children. He loved his nephews, but he could only handle them in small doses. Like, twenty minutes at most. It was also true, that his patience was pushed by most of humanity. That was probably why he enjoyed being an assassin so much. He got paid to help cull the hoards.

 

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              _Heavens help me_ , Harry thought as he ducked his head in embarrassment. He opened his book and started to read. Well, at least pretending to read. His mind was racing at lightning speeds. All because of the blond man seated across from him. A wink. Some mild flirting that was not even really flirting. That was it took to reduce him to a teenage girl with a crush. He chanced a glance up at the other man. Fingers trailing over the text, the blond’s attention was directed out the window.

              Draco was gorgeous. It had taken a lot of courage for Harry to just approach the table. But everywhere else was full. For the undergrads, midterms were just the next week, so everywhere was full of students last minute cramming. The only seat was with the standoffish-looking Greek god of a man. Draco, a fellow Englishman. The man did not seem to like to talk, but he did not sneer or ignore Harry and his rambling. And then the almost flirting. The wink.

              Harry mentally shook himself and started on his reading. While not the most interesting of topics, he did find it fascinating. How the mind worked, particularly as it was developing and changing through childhood and adolescence. Time flew past without his notice.

              After about an hour, Harry was distracted by a chair scraping. Draco had stood up, gathering up the textbook and his bag. Harry tried to keep his face neutral, but he could tell it fell some. He really enjoyed studying with the other man.

              “I’ll see you around?” Harry asked, his face hopeful.

              Draco gave him a faint smile. Harry counted that a victory. The blond had been, on and off, glaring out the window like he wanted to murder it. “We’ll see,” he said, leaning closer to whisper in Harry’s ear, “Can’t keep Hot Teacher waiting, now can I?”

              Harry blushed bright red. Draco chuckled softly as he straightened back up. With a wink and a smirk, the blond left the coffee shop. Harry collapsed into his chair with a sigh. That was intense. And a little bud inside his chest took root, encouraged by the man’s parting words. Hopefully, their paths would cross again.

 

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              Draco mentally shook himself as he walked down the street, his mark a few yards in front of him. What was he doing? Flirting with the grad student? Promising him that they would see each other again? That was nonsense. Once this job was completed, he would be off on the next, wherever that would be. Another city, possibly another country. He floated from place to place, having no roots, except maybe with his mother, in France.

              The mark looked nervous. Dr. Gillian Piers had reason to be paranoid. He had a nasty habit of exploiting grades for favors. Particularly those of the sexual nature. Draco scrunched his face in disgust. The man was not too old or too ugly, so there was no reason for his actions. So there was some other sick reason for what the man did. Maybe he got off on the power imbalance? Draco did not care. That was not part of his job.

              Why was Draco, a trained killer and mercenary, dealing with the pervert professor? Dr. Piers had exploited the wrong students: a set of twins, Nika and Anton, in different section of his economics course. What was so special about these two students? They were the heir and heiress of a Russian mobster. And thus, Draco was hired to take care of the man.

              Piers slipped into an apartment building, swiping his card to unlock the door. Draco waited about ten minutes before approaching the door. Earlier in the week, he had made a clone of the building’s card. He had stolen a youth mother’s card as he helped her get her shopping and infant out of the car and up to her apartment; he had returned it the next day, claiming he had found it on the ground outside by her car.

              Up three flights of stairs Draco went, and then down the hall to apartment “3C”. He knocked three times. Nothing. He frowned. The man should be here; Draco did not see him leave. He knocked again, more forceful. This time, he heard movement inside. A grunt or two, some shuffling, before finally the door cracked open, chain stopping it from opening more than a couple inches. Piers looked very disheveled.

              Draco’s eyebrows rose at the man’s state. It almost looked like … Draco rolled his eyes. A thud sounded from within the apartment. “You and I, Dr Piers, need to have a talk,” he said, his cold mercury eyes locking onto wide dull brown, “You should get rid of your company.” Draco was glad to have slipped on a beanie to cover his pale blond hair, since there would now be a witness that could possibly identify him.

              The man gulped, rightfully scared. He nodded, going to shut the door. Draco stopped it with a hand. He had learned that from past marks; once they had seen him, they would try to run the second they were out of sight.

              “It’s an emergency, Dr Piers,” he said, changing the tone of his voice to pleading. It made him sound younger. He had also raised the volume of his words, so they would be easily heard within, as well as down the hallways. “Please, I need your help.”

              The man narrowed his eyes at the sudden change. He closed the door mostly to unhook the chain, finally letting the man into the apartment. There, on the couch, was a very uncomfortable looking blonde girl. She looked a mess: shirt sloppily button, lip gloss smeared, curly hair coming out of its ponytail.

              Dr Piers cleared his throat, drawing the girl’s attention from the ground. “You can go, Mary,” he said with a sigh, “We can finish our discussion another day. Jones here needs help with his senior project.” He clasped a hand on Draco’s shoulder in comradery. Apparently, the man had gained back some confidence at the girl’s cowed appearance. The girl grabbed her bag and practically ran from the apartment, never looking at Draco. Good.

              Once they were alone, door locked, Draco dropped his bag, the textbook inside making a loud thud. With a dramatic sigh, he started to walk around the room. He knew it drove marks crazy, how calm and unconcerned he was. As special instructions, Vadim Kuznetsov had told Draco to torment the man a bit before killing him. While Draco was not fond of physically torturing people, he could psychological.

              Apparently, his mark had enough. “What do you want?” he demanded.

              Draco turned to face the man. He shook his head. “Tsk tsk, where’s your patience, professor?” he questioned, going back to his bag. He pulled out a file folder and dropped it onto the coffee table, picturing slipping out.

              “You’ve been very naughty. You could have continued on your demented way, but you extorted the wrong students.” He slowly pulled out a gun from the holster on the small of his back, screwing on the silencer. “Vadim Kuznetsov sends his regards. You should have never messed with his children.”

 

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              Harry raised his eyebrows as he read the email the college sent out. Apparently, Dr Piers had been found dead in his apartment a couple days ago. The police were investigating and want anyone with information to call the list hotline. Along with the body, there had been evidence of exploitation between the man and students. The college made an official statement about it, vilifying his actions. They also stated any student affected by the man’s actions should got to the police station to file a report.

              That was … concerning. He remembered taking “Intro to Economics” with Dr Piers as a freshman in undergrad. It was just to fill a Gen-Ed requirement, and the class was huge. He never got the vibe from the professor that he was sleazy enough to pull this. He just seemed like any middle-aged man teaching economics to a room of barely-adults who could not care less about the subject.

              While it was a shock, to realize someone had been murdered so close to campus, Harry did not feel that affected. Besides that one class, Harry never interacted with the man. He was not sadden by his death. Mostly, he was just unnerved that it happened and that the police did not have any solid leads. Oh well. Harry still lived on campus, as a Resident Director. He felt safe there.

              As he walked through campus, slipping his coffee, he thought back to Draco. He had not seen the blond since that day in the coffee shop, but he was still optimistic. He had gone a long time without crossing paths with the man before. Four days was nothing compared to that.


End file.
